Butterflies unfurled their wings in her stomach. “It wouldn’t bore me. Indeed, I’d very much like to hear it.”

“There’s little point. I’ve thought about our situation a good deal, and it seems to me that, going forward, we’d do better to leave sentiment well out of it.”

The butterflies vanished. In their place, she felt a vague tremor of foreboding. “I don’t understand.”

“I’ve compromised you, quite publicly. There’s nothing we can do to mitigate the damage—except to marry.”

“Each other?”

He scowled. “Well I’m certainly not suggesting that you marry George.”

Under other circumstances, Laura might have smiled at his reaction, or even laughed. But there was nothing humorous in his proposition. He was talking of a marriage void of sentiment. A cold and formal union, entered into for no other reason but to save her reputation.

He didn’t love her. Didn’t care for her.

“It needn’t be anything more than what it is,” he said. “A means of redeeming your honor. I won’t make demands of you. I won’t expect you to—”

Her eyes searched his. She saw something there. A flicker of sadness. Of grim resignation. “Expect me to what?”

“To pretend to feelings that you don’t have. I know what I am. And I know what I deserve.” His jaw hardened with resolve. “You’ll have my name, that’s all. In every other respect, you may go on as you always have. If that’s…If that’s what you wish.”

“What you’re describing—”

“Call it a marriage of convenience.”

Laura’s brows knit. “It doesn’t sound like a marriage of any kind. It sounds like a lie. A fiction.”

“A convenient fiction, then. But one based in law. The marriage itself will be real enough. I have the license to prove it.”

Her heart skipped a beat. “You’ve obtained a marriage license?”

“Why do you think I went to London?” He reached into an interior pocket of his coat and withdrew a folded paper. “It’s a special license.”

Her eyes widened. She’d only ever heard of such a thing in novels. It permitted a couple to marry wherever and whenever they pleased—without the burden of calling the banns. She took it from Alex, her pulse accelerating as she read it over. “We could marry tomorrow if we wished.”

“We could.” He regarded her steadily. “Does this mean you agree? That the arrangement meets your approval?”

Arrangement.

She swallowed. “If this is a proposal, it’s a very poor one.”

“I hadn’t thought one necessary. Doesn’t the proposal you made me at Talbot’s Pond still stand?”

“You refused me at Talbot’s Pond.”

“Stupid of me.” He reached out and took her hand, engulfing it in the strong clasp of his fingers. “Laura…”

Her heart was somewhere in her throat. “Yes?”